


out of the thousand invitations

by littleblacksubmarine



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, M/M, New Year's Eve, Oral Sex, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28436526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblacksubmarine/pseuds/littleblacksubmarine
Summary: Sonny and Rafael have a solid friendship – the basis for excellent advice, likeget back out there in the dating world, just in time for the DA’s New Year’s Eve party.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 68
Collections: Barisi Holiday Exchange 2020





	out of the thousand invitations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_sb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_sb/gifts).



Some little boys dreamed of a career in major league baseball. Some little boys dreamed of driving dump trucks. Some little boys dreamed of living out in the middle of a great plain with nothing but a big pasture of horses.

Rafael Barba dreamed abstractly of confidence, of security, and of an abundance of money, whatever that looked like.

Really, his father had left before he’d gotten good enough to win an argument, and he shuddered to think that it might have been the impetus for a drive to prove himself in life when other kids were worried about starting pitchers or, later, just how to get the license to operate heavy machinery. He still didn’t know how to go about getting a horse, let alone many.

He supposed all choices in life came with a need for power over something, and it just so happened he found it with a carefully cultivated pile of evidence and facts to back up an inkling. His mother had cried when she watched him handily win his first debate tournament, and there it was – set in stone, and all laid out in front of him. The Harvard scholarship had been the icing on the cake.

Every year, the invitation to the New York City prosecutor’s office holiday party – fittingly scheduled each year for New Year’s Eve when the entire office would be closed the next morning as the hangovers faded - delivered crisply into his hands felt like a nice wintertime reminder of his success, and a small, childish part of his heart fluttered when it appeared as if by magic in his mailbox every year amid the well-paid bills and half-ignored Christmas cards with postmarks from distant boroughs that showed up like fleeting ghosts from the past.

The first Christmas after he’d decided to make the long overdue transition to Columbia University, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find the neat invitation still tucked in along with the rest of his mail, but he had decided against his better nature to question it. After they kept coming along with the change of the seasons, he felt assured that he’d finally cemented his name where it belonged amongst the finest New York City had to offer and put the matter to bed. There was something to be said for finding where one fit in the world, and he wasn’t about to look a proverbial gift horse in its gilded mouth.

-

To say that Sonny was surprised when the early October invitation to the DA’s holiday party had arrived would be an understatement.

He’d slapped it down on the nicely-varnished bartop in Forlini’s in front of Rafael as though with disdain. They’d been meeting there every week at five thirty five on the dot for a year and a half under the laughable guise of _professional advice_ for almost six months, and it had been almost comforting in its routine.

“Do you think they meant this as a joke?” he blurted, gesturing for the bartender with a rudeness that was uncharacteristic of a nicely raised Italian Catholic boy. “No one’s even so much as looked at me since they signed me on and I started prosecuting cases. Do they haze guys in your neck of the woods?”

Rafael took a relaxed drag of his scotch. “Hello to you too,” he said coolly. “Not my neck of the woods anymore,” he added pointedly.

Sonny felt frustrated immediately, bristling with the nerves that he hadn’t been able to put to bed for at minimum of half a year. He hadn’t received anything quite so imposing in the mail since his most recent student loan bill – they’d started coming almost as soon as his final Bar scores had come. He knew Rafael had been comfortable putting his own bills on automatic withdrawal several years ago without a second thought, and the idea of it made him prickle with envy and wistfulness alike.

At first, Sonny had felt a little silly ordering a cheap domestic pint of beer compared to Rafael’s choice of finer liquor, but such nerves had faded over the past year or so. It had started innocuously enough – he’d brought his laptop along to the bar and skittishly asked for the WiFi password when he wanted Rafael to help him agonize over his resume when he applied for his position with the prosecutor’s office. At least _that_ felt a day or two ago.

Afterward, he’d closed it handily shut and scuttled away to Dawn.

Ah yes – _Dawn,_ with her immaculate red hair and infectious smile and well-curated set of antique china dishes that somehow matched long before she’d found a husband to split them with pristinely. Dawn, whose name seamlessly meshed with his own in a way that made his parents smile and general acquaintances muse, _oh, that’s so cute, Sonny-and-Dawn, Dawn-and-Sonny_. Dawn, who somehow felt a hundred years and ten seconds away every time he took a deep breath.

Dawn, who’d kicked him out of their apartment with a resigned, _I just don’t see it for us anymore, Sonny – I just don’t think I’m in love with you anymore_. There had been no polite _it’s not you, it’s me_. The words had played over and over again in his head for a year even as he tried to fall asleep alone. Dawn, who seemed to want someone who woke up in the morning with nice hair and a nicer attitude to match. Dawn, who’d coached him through years and _years_ of night classes in law school and still found him wanting at the end of those long nights.

It had been years since he’d even enrolled in classes, and at his graduation, his grandmother had been the first and only girl to kiss him– a dainty closed-mouthed peck that somehow made the victory feel hollow.

When he’d showed up at Forlini’s a week after graduation to celebrate looking gray and tired, Rafael had arched a suspicious eyebrow and order him a drink more expensive than usual. He suspected Rafael knew before he could even utter a syllable of it, but they’d come pouring out after a few drinks. Rafael had never been delicate enough to let a good or bad thing die unspoken of. He’d expect nothing less.

 _“I can’t tell you what to do, Sonny, but if this is what she really wants, now you have a whole new door to open_. _”_

It was akin to something his ma had said when he passed the Bar, whispered in his ear as soon as he’d driven to Staten Island in person to tell her the good news. She’d used more colorful language – _screw her, honey_ – but the sentiment was the same, even without the polished politeness that Rafael could offer in what he could grudgingly consider a friendship.

Since then, thank god Rafael had had the decency to coax him through it with measures of booze and encouragement in disparate pours. There were nights when Sonny had hung his head in the shame of being _lonely_ , even if his cheeks had flushed to admit it to someone he’d once considered a mentor of sorts. He’d felt a little more comfortable when Rafael had showed him one of the admittedly stupid dating apps on his phone – a handful of which he’d been more than a little surprised to see, surprised to see that someone he admired was buckling ever so slightly under the weight of being a big fish in a surprisingly small pond.

In the present day, Rafael remained cool and composed in a way that never failed to upset Sonny.

“This is a good thing,” Rafael pointed out, looking toward a late-season Mets game that he knew only held interest to Sonny, who had enough foresight to know the team would lose without him even so much as glancing at the score. “This means you’ve arrived.” He finished his first drink with a flourish as Sonny’s first beer arrived.

“You mean some of those dickheads in the office didn’t just print this up to send to me and ruin my goddamn day?” Sonny groused, shrugging off his overcoat and jacket from a day in court that had felt uncomfortably stuffy. “ – like I’m some new kid in town?”

Rafael rolled his eyes dismissively. “If it makes you feel any better, I got the same one.”

“With a plus one?” Sonny snapped, sipping his beer. He could immediately detect it as a _light_ version of the _regular_ he’d ordered, and for a moment he wondered if this was a cruel joke of its own rather than a simple mistake. “Like I’m supposed to scour around to find some kind of date? Stupid,” he scoffed.

“They do that to be polite, idiot,” Rafael told him, and Sonny could tell it was delivered with a good nature. “This isn’t some kegger that your frat planned at the last minute.”

Sonny rolled his eyes, feeling a tiny pinprick stab of being _called out_ hitting him somewhere in his belly. “To be fair, I’d go to a kegger with a written invitation.”

“You’d go to a kegger regardless,” Rafael reminded him as his next drink was delivered. It looked expensive. “Even so, have you thought about who you’d bring?”

It had been more than a few months and the prospect of securing a date even for a night of pool and mozzarella sticks still made Sonny feel sick to his stomach. He fought the urge to throw up by countering it with a mouthful of cheap beer.

“I probably won’t even go,” he said dismissively, in a way that he hoped still sounded cool.

In all truthfulness, the idea of going to a party alone made him feel woefully inept. To her credit, Dawn was ever-social – she found her footing in a room full of people intoxicated by her wavy mane, well-tailored stories about working in ethically-sourced fashion merchandising, and lilting laugh that he both envied and relished in every time he was lucky enough to find himself in a room with her. He felt alone every time the memories of that copper-colored hair and smiling hazel eyes flitted into his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch. The sickness in his stomach was back.

“You can’t _not go_ ,” Rafael protested, sounding solemn. “Don’t you want to be seen?”

Sonny looked down at his drink. “I’m already seen. I drank a Coors at a briefing,” he said dejectedly. The memory reminded him of the year he’d gone stag to homecoming even though his aunt had offered his cousin as a date. The punch that year had been warm. “You think attorneys don’t file that shit away for later?”

Rafael regarded him with a wary grimace. “Order a mid-shelf whiskey or don’t order at all. Take my word for it.”

“You tell me that now,” Sonny groaned, draining half of his beer. “Y’know, for a professor of the law, it would’ve been helpful for you to offer that advice sooner rather than later.”

“My syllabus doesn’t include drink orders,” Rafael told him honestly. “For that, you have to go on instinct.”

“You know my instincts suck.”

“You needed nicer friends growing up,” Rafael scoffed, as though a boy from Staten Island met people in dive bars who could help him navigate unfamiliar waters in what he considered _upper crust_. “Friends don’t let friends drink cheap beer in front of good company.”

“You’re lucky I don’t consider some people _good company_ , even if they have a paycheck that says otherwise.” Sonny was suddenly reminded that his suit was – at best – a size too big and bought off the rack. He shook away the thought. “Well, if worst comes to worst, maybe I’ll drag you along with me.” The thought wasn’t terrible – not by any stretch of the imagination.

“You say that like I didn’t already get mine two days ago,” Rafael told him with a conspiring smile.

“Ah yes, I forgot about Professor Barba, the social butterfly,” Sonny corrected himself, rolling his eyes as he knew that Rafael turned down almost every invitation that came his way, and as such, Sonny counted himself lucky that they kept meeting up even after Sonny had left SVU for the DA’s office. “What are you even doing here on a Friday?” He felt as though he was on the defensive but somehow a poor arguer despite what his credentials might say. “Isn’t there some rich guy in a suit with a bar tab to settle with you?”

He didn’t detect the way Rafael’s posture seemed to stiffen.

“It’s early. If you must know, I have a date later,” Rafael said cleanly.

The admission landed with a heaviness Sonny couldn’t put a name to. So many of his relationships and even acquaintances seemed to be separated between pre-Dawn and post-Dawn in a way that made Rafael land clumsily in between – a safe space where he could breathe somehow. It was nice to find himself not having to explain that he had spent years tucked away from casual dating and the brave new world of finding a girl – or guy – willing to put up with the baggage that found him jerking awake at night from a pleasant dream without a warm body to hold.

He was too old to try to find what was admittedly a missing piece in a life that seemed to be settling into place. It was assuredly nice to have a good friend, a _nice_ that he felt silly to privately savor.

“Well hey,” Sonny said with what he hoped was a good nature. “Maybe there’s hope for us after all.”

Rafael scoffed again. “There’s always been hope.”

“More hope for you than me,” Sonny offered with what he hoped was helpfulness. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

They’d long since gotten past the point of pretending to be disinterested in each other’s dating lives, even if Sonny’s was decidedly barren these days.

“If you must know – ”

“You know I must,” Sonny said, nodding down at the bartop with mock solemnity. “As your very good friend.”

“To my very good friend, I will tell you his name is Andrew, and nothing more.”

“A very good friend would tell me more than, ‘his name is Andrew,’ Rafael,” Sonny protested.

Rafael drew in a breath that was annoyed only in appearances. “His name is Andrew and he works in the admissions office. We didn’t know each other until we met on the app, though. Hardly a romantic meeting story.”

The heavy feeling in Sonny’s stomach grew more pressing and irritating upon hearing it. “If you think about it, it’s even more romantic that two people living in the same city – on the same _campus_ , no less – met through the magic of the Internet. It’s like, serendipity or something. In a modern sort of way, I guess.” Despite his earlier annoyance about receiving the invitation, Sonny was nothing if not an idealist. Rafael tacitly ignored it. “What’s he like?”

“He likes jazz and a good cigar, but only once a month.”

 _Of course he does_ , Sonny thought before he could stop himself, but if Rafael was excited, it would be impolite to point out a dating app cliché. And really, maybe it was only borne out of a beat of jealousy that he was more the cigarette-after-a-few-beers-in-an-alley type in his weaker, younger years. It was best to keep such weaknesses filed away where they didn’t sting at or incriminate him.

“A man of taste,” Sonny said, though his tone came out more dispassionately than intended. “You guys going out?”

“We’re going out for dinner. Korean food.”

“Always a good choice,” Sonny agreed, knowing that a microwave chicken pot pie waited for him at home but not wanting to lay those cards out on the table and look silly. “Well, I can’t wait to hear about Andrew with the cigars and jazz.” He didn’t _really_ want to hear about it, but put on a brave face, nonetheless. “Next week?”

“We’ll see,” Rafael said, the same as he always did, though we both knew it was routine at this point. “Tell me all about your takeout later?” he asked kindly, gesturing for the bartender to pay his half of the check.

“You didn’t even ask if I have plans,” Sonny protested with a groan. Maybe Rafael was an idealist too, deep down.

“You texted me earlier today raving about HBO Max,” Rafael pointed out, fishing into his jacket to find his wallet. “ _Multiple_ texts about the layout and interface. I thought it was safe to assume.” Sadly, it was true, and Sonny had seen enough neatly printed phone records to know he couldn’t argue with the cold, hard facts. “You should really get back out there.”

“Said the man who hates almost every other person on earth,” Sonny muttered.

Rafael scarcely glanced at the check before handing over his card. “That should inspire you, Carisi. If I can do it, anyone can do it.”

-

Andrew was perfect – startlingly so. He had straw colored hair, silver eyes, and a jawline that could carve marble with conversation skills to match. Rafael had spent enough years in _the game_ of in the investigation and prosecution of crimes to expect any guy met online to be an unfortunately unexpected serial killer, but he was almost glad tonight that desperation had caused him to overlook his superstitions – however well-forged.

“ – and that was when I knew that academia was probably a better fit for me,” Andrew added, concluding an enticingly long anecdote about corruption in the New York City symphony’s flute auditions. He’d been on the judging board for as long as Rafael had been a prosecutor, and Rafael supposed he’d at least found an inkling of sameness in the telling the story that would be enough to keep him coming back for more. “Turns out that transcripts are a little more by the book than pitch – at least on paper.”

“If you could find the overlap between the two, you might have the perfect music student,” Rafael supplied helpfully.

“Exactly,” Andrew agreed, sipping at a tasteful import beer. “Look out – you might be the admissions’ office’s next recruit with that line of thinking.” There was a shine in his eyes that made Rafael feel a little bit wilting, but only because he’d waited to download a dating app in the first place.

“Don’t tempt me,” Rafael said with a put-upon groan. “I have a student in my first-year lecture who decided he wanted to be a lawyer after he saw _Legally Blonde_.”

Andrew leaned back in his chair in mock-offense. “And what exactly is wrong with _Legally Blonde_?”

“Harvard wouldn’t accept my video interview,” he countered breezily. The laugh it earned him hit him deep in the gut.

“Touché,” Andrew answered with his hands held up as though in retreat, his laugh still having not faded just yet. “Maybe you can show it to me on our second date.”

It had been a small eternity since Rafael had felt assured of a second date. He allowed himself to bask in it, inwardly glad at finally having found good use for a smartphone other than its superior calendar feature.

-

Despite his initial disdain for its arrival, Sonny affixed the New Year’s Eve party invitation to his fridge with a faded _Staten Island is for Lovers_ magnet. It was an exercise in masochism, he supposed guiltily, knowing he’d more than likely end up digging his best – if you could call it that – suit out of the often-unexplored side of his closet at the last minute to attend in hopes of saving face. Maybe it was like Rafael said – a best excuse to be seen when he so often tried to hide.

It faded a little in the space where the late October sunlight in his apartment seemed to reach.

Rafael had been dating Andrew for a couple of weeks, though Sonny hated to hear about it a little more every time. He wondered distantly why that hatred had begun to mount. _It’s nice to have a friend_ , he rationalized.

 _Which of these is most laid back for an arboretum?_ The text had come early enough, accompanied with a picture of two sweaters laid out on a smooth bedspread. Sonny googled _arboretum_ before hastily typing out a response. He knew Rafael would neatly pack the sweater into his bag to put on in between classes and a later date.

 _The maroon. It’s seasonal but you’re not trying too hard_ , he replied, knowing that sending a wardrobe consultation text was the epitome of _trying to hard_ in preparation for a fourth date. The yellowed leaves falling slowly off the trees would complement the sweater nicely. He glowered at his phone where he’d deposited it on the breakfast bar of his new apartment. He’d pinched himself a few times when he saw his first several paychecks, finally deciding at the end of several long weeks to upgrade to a nicer place. He eyed the phone warily before picking it back up, jostling the toothbrush in his mouth as he got ready for work in a rush. _Forlini’s still?_

He messily spit the froth of toothpaste into the kitchen sink, trying not to wring his hands in anticipation. Maybe it wasn’t exactly becoming of an ADA to brush his teeth in the kitchen while he shrugged on a suit that felt like being choked by a boa constrictor during the work week, but Sonny tried to pay the idea no mind as he awaited a response. He didn’t bother to look at his phone as he quickly shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth while he put the rest of his clothes on.

Sonny wasn’t used to omitting a gun holster just yet.

The response came as he scuttled out the door, hoping not to be late.

 _Can’t make it. We’re going out early enough to try and catch some sunlight_. Sonny gave an exasperated sigh, hating the shortening days if only because they’d deprived him of the promise of contact with an actual adult who wasn’t his sister. The follow up came quickly: _maybe brunch tomorrow?_ At least there was that.

 _I want breakfast tacos_. He sent his reply before he could kick himself for it, not wanting to seem desperate. “Shit,” Sonny said out loud, picking up his briefcase with one hand. _Angela’s busy_. He supposed it was a rookie move, using his sister as an excuse, but ultimately knowing he was no better than a rookie move at the end – or beginning – of the day.

At least Rafael sent confirmation for brunch quickly with a time and location attached. Otherwise, the threat of rejection might have prickled at his nerves throughout the morning. Truthfully, Sonny hadn’t even asked Angela if she was free enough to meet for brunch. On days where he and Rafael didn’t have weekend brunch, Sonny knew nothing waited for him on Saturday mornings other than Froot Loops and _Sports Center_ reruns and the absence of the smell of Dawn’s shampoo brushing against his face.

He supposed it was dumb to miss something so small, but he’d never been able to place the scent since then. On stupid, solitary nights, he tried to find the smell in long-washed pillowcases. It was _all_ stupid, and he felt ashamed when he recognized what he was doing as his nostrils flared in pursuit.

Sonny checked his Apple watch, shutting the door abruptly behind him in a way he fleetingly hoped wouldn’t wake an elderly neighbor he hadn’t kindly learned the name of yet. He didn’t have any other notifications, only a still sleep-blurry reminder that he’d be late if his long legs weren’t fast enough to carry him.

-

It was their second brunch since Rafael had had to cancel two Forlini’s evenings in a row to go out with Andrew, and he wondered if he was glowing. Sonny had apparently grown tired of breakfast tacos after last week’s lackluster showing despite his expert recommendation, and instead, he watched Sonny pick at too-sweet triangles of French toast.

“And how are things going with Andrew?” Sonny asked, one eye trained on his beermosa as he clearly tried to pace himself as though he was afraid to overindulge in front of Rafael. They’d been talking about case law beforehand, and the question was a hurried change of pace. “Things still going okay?”

“Very okay,” Rafael told him brightly, pleased to find it as the truth. He watched Sonny chase a few molecules of powdered sugar with his fork, finding himself slightly annoyed with the way that he didn’t ask for follow up. “The arboretum was very nice, and so was the planetarium.” Sonny didn’t bat an eye, still gathering up the small white flecks in a way that irritated him in its aimlessness, though he couldn’t place way. Instead, he tried again: “we’re going out for wings tomorrow.”

Sonny jerked his head upward. “Wings?” Now his look was bemused. “Rafael Barba is eating wings now?”

Rafael waved a dismissive hand in a way he hoped wouldn’t deter the waitress from bringing more Bellini’s. “There’s a Seahawks game on tomorrow,” he said, as though that solved everything.

There was a brief pause as Sonny regarded him with a stare that was half withering and half pitying. “The Seahawks,” he said thoughtfully. “And what city do the Seahawks play out of, Counselor?” he asked with a politeness that only came from years of lessons from a passive aggressive mother. 

“Seattle,” Rafael sputtered immediately, finding himself called onto the carpet and on the defensive. “He’s from Washington State, and also, I’m not a complete idiot, thank you.”

“You thought the Kansas City Chiefs played in Kansas,” Sonny told him with a handy coolness, finally mustering up the initiative to take another bite of his meal.

“It’s all the same,” Rafael replied. He wondered if he could feel an almost imperceptible shift in the air but chalked it up to his own lack of worldliness with regard to the major cities of the flyover states. “And anyway, I can bluff my way through a noon date.”

“A noon date,” Sonny mused, abandoning his fork entirely. “Noon dates are new territory, aren’t they?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rafael said, feigning what he hoped was casualness. “I’m just a human being meeting another human being for a meal or two.”

“A meal or two of wings,” Sonny reminded him. He could see Sonny sit up a little straighter. “You order your salad dressing separately.”

“And?”

“And all of a sudden you’re going to have buffalo sauce smeared all over those delicate lawyer fingers.” Sonny took a strangely large gulp of his beermosa. “If you aren’t careful, someone might see you out and about and figure out you weren’t born in Manhattan.”

“Brooklyn is the new Manhattan,” Rafael sniffed, paying him no mind.

“That bag you’re carrying says otherwise.”

“I don’t plan on carrying it.”

Sonny picked his fork back up. “Hey, probably for the best.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’m proud of you, though.”

“For what?”

“For not being afraid to get back out there,” Sonny said, fighting around a gracelessly big mouthful of toast. “Seems like it’s working out for you, even if you have to set a toe outside of Manhattan to do it.” Rafael wasn’t sure if he ought to be offended or not.

“Don’t you ever think about it?” Rafael blurted out. He wondered why he suddenly felt invested after all those Friday evening happy hours. “You act like you’re some kind of old maid or something.” Maybe it was the Bellini talking, and cursed himself for being brought even slightly to his knees by a few mouthfuls of champagne.

“I’ll know when I’m ready.” Sonny’s usually easy countenance betrayed him with a furrowed brow.

“Oh, Christ,” Rafael blurted out, not for the first time. “You always say that.” Now it was time for him to lay his own utensils down, aghast enough to abandon his carefully poached egg. “How will you know if you don’t try? Aren’t those your own words coming back to bite you?”

“Oh, shut up,” Sonny told him, though there was no venom in the way he cut Rafael short, eyes narrowed down at his late breakfast. Rafael knew enough to assume he might find Sonny with less ire if he’d had the decency to invite him out even an hour later. “Those who can’t do preach.”

“There’s no room in the law for hypocrisy.” Rafael finally did take a sip of his drink, enjoying the dry bite of alcohol. “ – or are all of my lessons going to waste?”

“Your teaching didn’t extend to my love life,” Sonny said, and now there was an edge to it that Rafael couldn’t place. “I’ll know when I’m ready,” he repeated. Sonny paused, looking dejected. “It’s just hard, y’know? There’s only so many fish out there.”

“There he goes again with the hypocrisy,” Rafael replied, feeling justified in returning to his eggs benedict and smoked salmon. “That’s not what you told me.”

“And suddenly someone has the world figured out.”

Rafael found himself annoyed – no, flirting with the edge of angry – as he watched Sonny sawing away at cautiously-cultivated shards of brioche. Suddenly the young hours of the day felt better suited toward his routine of grocery shopping amid hipsters and harried mothers who could eke out an hour or two of good superstore time.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Sonny’s eyes darted up and away from his sweet breakfast. The flash was noticeable, and he knew it was no small feat to steal Sonny Carisi away from a plate full of empty sugars. His own stomach ached in what he hoped was sympathy.

“It means you think you’re better than me because an admissions counselor wants to be with you,” Sonny said plainly. More plainly that Rafael would like to give him credit for, to his inward chagrin.

“I don’t think I’m _better_ than anyone, just more adventurous. That’s all.”

“More adventurous,” Sonny echoed distantly, but his eyes had drifted up and over Rafael’s shoulder despite there not being any game on to distract him. “Oh, fuck _me_ ,” he said suddenly, slapping his fork down on the table just as Rafael took a well-timed drink.

Champagne immediately splashed down the wrong pipe, and he sputtered out a rattling cough. Surely he’d misheard him. He _couldn’t_ mean – Rafael’s mind was racing. “Sorry?” he sputtered painedly.

But Sonny’s concentration on the topic at hand had vanished in a split second. “Don’t look,” he hissed, ducking his head a little as though trying to hide in a small hole in the wall café.

“What?” Rafael asked, rushing to do exactly the opposite of what had been requested. He saw the large, curly shock of red hair illuminated at the front door in the mid-morning sun. “Oh, shit.”

He’d met Dawn a few times in passing, enough to recognize her so as to keep walking out of loyalty if he’d seen her floating ethereally down the street. The occasion had thankfully never presented itself, but now he felt almost as cornered as Sonny – _almost_. He looked back, finding Sonny’s cheeks splashed red and the rest of him trying to sink either into his chair or down in the floor to disappear.

“Did she see us?” Sonny asked, sounding meek and terrified and betraying the fact that he was a man who’d had a gun pointed at him in the past. “Shit, _shit_ , she’s coming over here,” he followed up in a panic. “We made eye contact.”

Time seemed to slow painfully, but the two of them looked up at the same time to find Dawn standing next to the small table for two with a surprisingly genuine smile. A brief spark of hurt jolted through Rafael, knowing it was a smile that Sonny had pined over on more than a few nights, and he wondered if it was a comfort or a curse to Sonny now to find it directed at him after a year of poring over the _what ifs_.

Dawn was beaming, of course, because she always was, from what Rafael had heard, and even he could admit it would be infectious if he wasn’t seeing it in a cringeworthy moment such as this.

“Sonny,” Dawn said, ever-gregarious and seemingly without mind to the fact that her ex-boyfriend was living out his worst nightmare in front of company. “It’s nice to see you!” She was wearing a fashionable cream-colored jacket with boots and a silk scarf that probably came from the upscale boutique she’d been tasked with buying for straight out her master’s program. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi,” Sonny said, and Rafael could tell from across the table that his mouth had gone dry. “I’m just – heard good things on Yelp about the French toast,” he said helplessly. “I just – I moved into the neighborhood a few months ago and – ” He didn’t finish his sentence, as though biting himself back from spilling out the details of the latest chapter of his life story.

“Oh, the French toast kicks ass,” Dawn exclaimed in agreement. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I know how much you love your French toast.” That was another thing Rafael had heard more than once – Dawn never forgot a special detail about a person, whether it was their birthstone or their favorite movie or the fact that they’d had a cold recently.

“Well, you know me,” Sonny said meekly. There was a long, expectant pause, and Dawn looked at him promptly. “Oh, yeah, sorry – you, uh, you remember Rafael Barba? We’re – this is just – we’re just having brunch.” Of course, that much was obvious. Rafael winced in sympathy, hoping Sonny had never floundered like this in a judge’s chambers.

“Of course,” Dawn said warmly. “You teach at Columbia, don’t you?”

“Guilty as charged,” Rafael said, faking to match the amenability in her tone. “How are you doing?”

“Just gearing up for the holidays.” The weather was finally getting cool enough that it didn’t feel quite so strange to talk about the holidays. “Trying to enjoy the last weekend before things start getting crazy with work, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Sonny agreed, though it wasn’t exactly as though there was a mad holiday rush to prosecute sex crimes, was there? “I – um, it’s good to see you. You look nice.” It sounded like a compliment a high schooler would give to his prom date upon first sight, and it was so endearingly _Sonny_ that Rafael felt his chest flutter a little.

“Thanks! It’s good to see you too. You look great,” Dawn beamed, and it was briefly unclear why Sonny had spent so many months looking over his shoulder in fear of her. She seemed like a house pet quiet enough to not arouse any suspicion from a nosy landlord. Rafael envied her pleasantries – it might have served him well in this life or another. “Listen, I think my stepmom just got us a table, so I should probably go.” And then, she delivered the final blow: “we should catch up sometime. It’s been a long time.”

“Y-yeah,” Sonny stammered, and Rafael knew Sonny well enough to know that he was clutching his knife for dear life as though desperately trying to ground himself in reality. “We totally should get together again soon – to catch up,” he added hastily. He’d never been able to play it cool, and Rafael knew it well enough to recognize that mess in practice.

There was another uncomfortable pause. “Well, my number’s still the same,” Dawn supplied helpfully. “Good to see you again too,” she said to Rafael, nodding happily in his direction. He made a half-hearted sound as though to agree, but his mild disinterest did nothing to deter the smile on her face.

She was gone as soon as she’d come, fluttering away after a brief further second of politeness.

The silence between the two of them was deafening in Dawn’s absence. Sonny looked dismally down at his long-forgotten French toast as though recuperating from retreating from battle. He picked up his fork again like he was trying to regain control, but lowered it again, still steadying himself. He took a drink of his beermosa.

Rafael took it upon himself to break that terrible silence: “well, she seems like she’s doing well.”

“She did, didn’t see?” Sonny said forlornly. “I haven’t seen her since I moved all my books out.” Ah yes – Rafael had heard all about the books secondhand from Sonny. There had been so, so many of them that it took multiple agonizing trips back and forth as he hoped she would have a last-minute change of heart, enough to ask him to reconsider at stay. She hadn’t. “She really did look like she’s doing well.”

“ _You’re_ doing well too,” Rafael reminded gently. “You’re the ADA, for Christ’s sake.” He paused again, waiting until Sonny met his eyes with a guilty smile. “I’m sorry if I was being an ass earlier. You’ll know when you’re ready.” He seemed to need reminding now, despite Rafael’s earlier insistence to the contrary. The last thing he wanted to do was send Sonny back to his apartment with a headful of memories and half-eaten order of breakfast food that surely wouldn’t keep.

“I’m going to text her,” Sonny said suddenly, his fingers clearly itching to grab for his phone already. Rafael frowned a little at the fact that his apology had seemed to go unnoticed.

“Don’t do it now,” Rafael told him coolly, reaching again for his drink even though it had betrayed him earlier by choking him. “Don’t want to look desperate.” _Even if I did tell you to line up a date to the party_.

“You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right,” Sonny said quietly, taking a deep breath to steel himself. He brought his knife back to his plate, cutting into his toast again. Perhaps bad news was easier to take on a full stomach. Rafael knew enough about both of their family dynamics to imagine both he and Sonny had had food forced on them by their mothers with the same sentiment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off earlier. It’s just - ” Hs voice seemed to catch in his throat for a second out of consideration. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

“Hardly,” Rafael scoffed. An offended look creased Sonny’s face. “But wouldn’t it be lovely if the world worked that way?” It was more of a statement than a question. “Text her and see what happens, though. Stranger things _have_ happened.”

“Stranger things,” Sonny repeated, seemingly caught off guard enough to lose the capacity for an original thought. “I mean, yeah. Never thought I’d be having brunch with the great Rafael Barba, for one,” he added pointedly.

“See?” Rafael asked, licking hollandaise off from between the tines of his fork with practiced finesse. “Stranger things.”

-

The first text he’d sent Dawn had been terrifying, as had been the first November invitation to lunch. Sonny assumed lunch was safe territory – late enough in the day to look composed, but early enough to resign himself to a night of Coors if the events of the afternoon were not to his liking. To be fair, Sonny wasn’t sure what to expect, nor was he sure what would be to his liking.

Still, Dawn had agreed to meet him, looking casually composed as ever even though Sonny had agonized over what to wear for almost an hour. He’d even accepted defeat and Facetimed Rafael for help even if the other man was woefully inept at using the technology at hand. They’d agreed on a button down checked shirt – _for Christ’s sake, Sonny, at least iron it_ – and his least distressed jeans.

Lunch hadn’t been enough, and Sonny should’ve assumed Dawn wasn’t the type to eat and run. She’d been more than happy to hear about just what happened when a man was triumphant in finishing a nighttime law degree and the Bar, and even suffered through his description of his most well-won case with a smile on his face. His footsteps felt light for the first time in months and months as they strolled down blocks with Dawn’s favorite coffee. It was nice to link up with the only person who knew just exactly how far he’d come, he thought, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Rafael knew it too, even with the dismal moments following his breakup in between.

He remembered the sleepy way Dawn told him she loved him on Sundays and stomped on the feeling it brought him. She was just so _happy_. He wondered if she had ever dared to switch shampoo brands, but the luster of her hair reminded him it wasn’t possible, based on his limited knowledge of women’s haircare.

“Why’d you break if off?” he’d blurted stupidly, halfway through a club sandwich he knew he could make better at home. “I mean, really, lay it on me – I can take it.” Maybe he could. It warranted asking.

She’d given him a thoughtful look, chewing slowly as though deep in thought. Dawn had always been a slow chewer.

“It was like we were living together as friends,” she said finally, looking appropriately sad to tell him the honest truth. She was honest, almost to a fault, but never in the way a rude person claimed to be _brutally honest_. As soon as she said it, she seemed to regret it. “I just – there has to be more to it than that, right?” She laid her pretty little forehead in her hand for a moment, and Sonny wanted to grasp her hand. “We both deserve more than that, you know? There’s something to be said for being, like, madly in love with someone. We weren’t.”

And she was right, really – he knew she was right. He’d spent too many years buried in his textbooks to see that he’d possibly let things fade beyond the initial heat of their relationship. There was certainly some guilt there, and it was the kind that came from regretting letting a good thing slip through his fingers. She’d helped him _study_ , for god’s sake. There was nothing romantic about torts. He couldn’t argue with the sentiment, especially when it was so plainly spoken.

It was cold outside as they walked down the street, and he was glad he could pretend it didn’t bother him since he’d bought new gloves. Dawn was from a small town in Minnesota and was used to freezing.

After the date, he’d kissed her cheek with what he knew were cold lips and a casual _call me_? that he distantly hoped might impress Rafael with its simplicity. Dawn had agreed, but part of Sonny knew she was always one to schedule dates with people she planned to never see again. He’d been pleasantly surprised when she’d texted him a week later asking to meet up at a small bistro they’d been to once before. He took small comfort in the familiarity of it, knowing that at least he wasn’t venturing into foreign territory.

-

Andrew kissed his ear as he smoothed out his sweater in the mirror, the late November chill making it necessary for Rafael to put on another layer to teach in a draft hall. “Dinner tonight?”

“A late dinner?” he asked delicately, not wanting to ruffle anyone’s feathers. “Carisi needs to review a case file before next week. I told him he owed me a scotch if I helped him.”

Andrew rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “When I do I get to meet the famous Carisi?” he asked drolly, picking at a loose thread on the short sleeve of his pajama shirt. Andrew brought along pajamas that always somehow seemed to match when he stayed over. “I hear a lot about him, you know.”

“You know how it goes,” Rafael said, turning back to face where Andrew had retreated to watch him getting ready in the mirror with what seemed to be astute attention. “He’s a good friend and he’s getting his footing. I’ve _had_ my footing. It’d be a shame not to share it with other people. Knowledge is power.”

It was casual in the room – two men who’d spent the night intertwined and woke up with the realities of the day on their heels.

“If you’re good at something, you shouldn’t do it for free,” Andrew told him, clearly heeding what had been said but not keen to let it sit. “Charge him by the hour, and all that.” For a moment, Rafael wondered if he could detect a note of resentment in the advice.

Rafael turned, knowing he looked immaculately composed as Andrew approached again. “What’s a bit of legal advice among friends?” he asked, planting his hands solidly on Andrew’s shoulders. He drew him in for a fond kiss, even if it was early in the morning and they both had places to be.

“You and I both know what tuition costs,” Andrew reminded him, nipping at the curve of his jawline. Rafael shivered, feeling good for the attention though he didn’t want to disclose it readily. Distantly, Rafael remembered his earlier words. _My syllabus doesn’t include drink orders_. There was only so much to teach, if nothing else.

“You’ll meet him.” _If the time is right_. And really, was there ever a right time to meet someone’s acquaintance when the timeline was messy? “And anyway, he’s trying to get back together with his ex. He cancels half the time anyway.” If it was rude to air Sonny’s business, now didn’t feel quite like the time to let it hold him back too much.

“Poor bastard,” Andrew mused in sympathy. “We’ve all been there, though, haven’t we?”

Rafael sighed, rummaging superstitiously in his briefcase to make sure he hadn’t forgotten the notes for te day in class.

“When I close a book, it’s closed,” he said quietly. “Some of us aren’t so lucky.”

“Apparently not,” Andrew agreed. “ – luckily for you, I’m boring.”

Rafael turned away from his own reflection and the contents of his fine bag. “Boring is underrated.” He closed the distance, pecking lightly at the corner of Andrew’ mouth. _Don’t be anything but boring_ , he implored in silence. He’d had his fair share of _eventful_ men, so much so that he’d given up entirely until now. Boringness was a virtue, and boredom was a luxury to be reveled in. “I like you just the way you are – even if it is boring.”

“Is that so?” Andrew was leaning down to tie his shoes. “Well, what a compliment. I _like_ you too.” There seemed to be _something_ going unspoken, but Rafael supposed he was too skittish to press further. He dropped a kiss onto the crown of Andrew’s head.

“However, I’d like you even a little bit more if you weren’t risking making me late for class,” Rafael pointed out. Andrew rose to his feet, kissing him hotly on the mouth with a shift in the air that hadn’t been there before.

“You’ll know when I’m trying to make you late for class, Rafael,” Andrew told him, implication heavy and exciting. “ – but by all means, don’t let me distract you.”

Rafael counted himself lucky he’d set an early alarm.

-

Forlini’s was just the same as Sonny and Rafael had last left it, and Sonny was always thankful that it was the case. He’d cancelled the last three weeks of after-work drinks, some of them to drop off takeout for Dawn while she was comparing samples against next year’s Pantone colors of the year when they’d been announced, but more to wait by the phone to see if she’d text him. Instead, he’d gotten more than a few irritable messages from Rafael asking him why he’d all of a sudden made himself so scarce.

 _Stop moping_ , Rafael urged. _I’ll buy you any domestic beer you want if you’ll pull yourself together, Carisi. Maybe even two if you play your cards right_.

In all truthfulness, if Sonny could be so bold as to be honest with himself, he found himself less and less able to bear the idea of Rafael cavorting around town to farmer’s markets and to pick out a fucking _holiday tree_ for Andrew’s apartment together, even if it had only been a few months. If he had been able to depend on one thing, it was the fact that Rafael was far too grouchy and far too unsentimental to indulge in pursuing the idea of settling in for the night with tiramisu and _The Crown_ and a guy who, if his Bumble profile was to be believed, looked like he could be at least a part time model. 

Maybe there was a part of him that was jealous, a part of him that could begrudgingly admit he missed being dragged to movies he had no interest in seeing if for the simple fact that he was going with someone he could imagine himself falling asleep next to. He was glad he didn’t have to speak that thought out loud, imagining Rafael making ridiculing gagging sounds at the sentimentality of it.

Or really, maybe that was the part he missed – being the subject of Rafael’s undivided attention. It sounded childish as it echoed in his head, but he couldn’t deny that it was at least a little true. They could at least enjoy wallowing in each other’s solitude together, even if Rafael had always pretended his own was a mere annoyance rather than something that gnawed at him in the way Sonny’s did. He supposed it would be selfish to consider Rafael a traitor and instead retreated into a world of playing old Xbox games that Dawn had always wrinkled her nose at while sitting around in his underwear eating takeout.

Being a bachelor was trash, and perhaps unbecoming at his age.

Still, Dawn hadn’t fully ghosted him, even if they didn’t text as frequently as he’d like. Earlier today, she’d at least agreed to meet up with him two weeks from now for Spanish seafood brunch place she’d always liked best – bottomless ceviche was her weakness. He’d suggested ice skating, but she’d immediately shot that down – something about twisting her ankle in her new heeled boots and wanting to baby it until the new year. It sounded like an excuse, and maybe he’d pushed too hard for something that felt dangerously close to _date_ territory.

At least he might get credit for trying.

To his surprise, when he arrived, Sonny found that Rafael hadn’t. It was unusual to say the least – Sonny had never been commended for his punctuality, to be certain. Rafael had huffed at him in annoyance over it more times than he could count. He took his customary seat at the bar, ordering a Busch Light with at least the small pleasure that Rafael wasn’t here to make fun of him for ordering a light beer. _Sometimes the light just tastes better_ , he’d exclaimed on more than one occasion. It went down easier, and therefore more quickly.

He sat for a few minutes, briefly wondering if he’d be stood up before chastising himself that this was probably how people had felt in the past when he’d shown up late for things. Finally, he could hear the bell of the front door jangle for a split second, and found Rafael coming over to sit beside him at the bar. For his part, Rafael didn’t even have to place his customary order before the bartender was tipping mid-shelf scotch into a short glass -on the rocks, as always.

“Sorry I’m late,” Rafael said, stripping off his leather gloves.

“I just got here,” Sonny said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He’d forgotten his own gloves and his fingers were still just beginning to warm up. “Not used to getting here before you, though. Could barely remember where to sit.” Rafael cracked a smile at that, nodding down at the beer already poured in front of Sonny.

“Well, you figured it out, it seems,” he said charitably. “What’s new with you?”

“Nothing,” Sonny said, and found himself sad that he could recognize it was true. “Got this new case today – something about a violin teacher and like, ten of his underage students. Real mess. We’re having to split it with Jersey and Connecticut too. Gonna give me gray hair.”

“ _More_ gray hair, at least,” Rafael corrected. “That sounds like a nightmare. It’s even worse when the perverts decide to travel.”

“Tell me about it,” Sonny agreed, taking a sip of his beer. “What about you? Anything exciting?”

Rafael looked down at his drink as it was delivered in front of him, picking it up to swirl the ice a little in the bottom. He seemed to be mulling something over, and if their meetups had been weekly lately, Sonny might feel comfortable throwing politeness to the wayside to ask him why the cat had got his tongue. Instead, he opted for tact and waited, trying to look busy as he counted the bubbles in his beer floating up to be absorbed into the foamy ring at its surface.

“Well…” he said, arranging the glass back in the divot it had already made in the center of his forest green cocktail napkin. “Last night I invited Andrew to the DA’s office New Year’s Eve party.”

Before he could stop himself from acknowledging it with such force, Sonny felt as though he’d been kicked sharply in the stomach. He wasn’t sure what had coaxed out such a visceral reaction from him, and he found himself embarrassed to acknowledge at least some of it could be attributed to jealousy. _How humiliating_ , he cringed inwardly.

“What did he say?” Sonny asked, hoping he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt. Perhaps staying away from Rafael had meant that there was time for the seriousness of his relationship to fizzle out “I mean, he said yes, right?”

“He did,” Rafael confirmed, and the kicked feeling got even worse.

“It’s a little soon for that, isn’t it?” Sonny blurted out. As soon as he’d said it, he wished he hadn’t. Rafael regarded him with a withering stare. “I mean – well, you know – not that that’s a bad thing,” he hurried to add, but the slight damage had already been done.

“Are you accusing me of moving too fast?” Rafael said, a bemused expression creeping across his face, and somehow it almost made him feel smaller, reminded of the months he’d spent following Rafael around trying to soak up some of his excess confidence. “May I remind you _again_ that this whole dating experiment was your idea in the first place?”

“I’m just saying,” Sonny said meekly. “If it’s as big of a deal as you say it is, maybe taking someone you’ve known for two months is a bit – ” He gave a defeated sigh. “Y’know what? Forget I said anything. I’m glad for you.”

Unfortunately for Sonny, Rafael was not the type to simply _forget_ when his judgment had been so flagrantly questioned.

“How would you know?” he asked. “I’m the one who told you how important this is. You’ve never even been.” He paused, giving even further consideration to what Sonny had brought up. “And for that matter, you’ve never even met Andrew, either. So, your opinion is doubly flawed.”

Sonny’s head snapped up from where he had ducked his gaze to stare at the countertop and wish he could turn back time even a few seconds so he could talk his way out of the argument he’d inadvertently sparked.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like you bring him around me or anything,” Sonny muttered disdainfully. “And it’s not like you’re not suddenly too busy all the time.”

“ _I’m_ too busy? Sonny, I haven’t seen you in three weeks because you’ve been hoping Dawn will call you on a day where your calendar’s empty, even if it means that you have to cross me out to make it that way.” Rafael gave him a look as though to say, _see? I got you_. And while it was true, it made Sonny’s annoyance flare up from where it had only been a small smolder on the outset of this portion of their conversation.

“Didn’t you say I should try to reach out to her?” Sonny snapped. “Whatever happened to all that ‘stranger things have happened’ bullshit?”

The bartender regarded them with a wary look as though afraid he might run the risk of having to break something up but didn’t remark. Sonny felt the beginnings of a headache. Suddenly waiting by the phone waiting for it to ring like a sad sack seemed preferable to _arguing about boys_ with another full-grown man at the end of a too-long workday. He rubbed at his temples, wishing he’d packed some ibuprofen.

“I said stranger things have happened. I didn’t say you should throw all the other parts of your life away in hopes that one of those stranger things would come along,” Rafael retorted. “I said that so it would feel like a happy accident if enough time had passed to bring you two back together.” For the first time since he’d known Rafael, Sonny watched a look of regret cross Rafael’s face as soon as he’d uttered the words.

Sonny drained a third of his beer. “Oh, so it’d be an accident to be with someone like me,” he said slowly, accent getting thicker with anger.

“That’s not what I said,” Rafael told him with an evenness that made that flared anger flicker even brighter. “You know that’s not what I said.”

“I heard what you said.” Sonny chugged at his beer again in a way that might impress his younger self for trying to keep fighting the good fight. “You don’t need to try to talk your way out of it if you’re hoping to confuse me with big words, Counselor.” They had used the professional term back and forth for a year as though it were something akin to a _pet name_ , but now it felt like broken glass in his mouth. “I’ll leave you to it.” He finished his beer, digging for his wallet.

“Don’t do this,” Rafael warned. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” The words sounded hollow to both of them.

Sonny dug out a bill that was decided too large for the modest tab he’d racked up in a mere matter of minutes. “It’s all yours, Tony.” He assumed their usual bartender could take that as a paltry consolation prize for spending the early part of his shift watching an argument between two faithful regulars. “Enjoy your holiday.”

He stormed out the door into the newly frigid cold air. He at least took small comfort that he’d made what he felt was an appropriately dramatic exit.

-

Rafael didn’t realize how quiet he’d been through the beginning of dinner until Andrew remarked on it, chasing a few stray grains of black rice.

“Long day,” he said quietly, hoping it would explain enough since he didn’t feel like talking about what happened at Forlini’s. Andrew looked expectantly at him, apparently unwilling to let a sleep dog lie. “Too many final essays to grade.” He paused, supposing honesty was ultimately the best policy despite the fact that it had earned him no points earlier. “I managed to piss Carisi off, too.”

“Do tell?” Andrew asked, thankfully without any apparent judgment. “The ex thing?”

Rafael nodded, sipping at a too-fruity drink in hopes it wouldn’t clash with his earlier scotch and leave him with an even bigger headache than the one that had already begun to brew. “Maybe I was a little too frank.”

“Maybe not just anyone can take someone being honest with them,” Andrew told him succinctly.

The idea of Sonny being _not just anyone_ cut him a little too deeply for his taste. Rafael thought back to the way that Sonny tossed back Pepto Bismal like he was shooting tequila before giving an opening statement he’d hoped would be enough to put away the perp facing what would be his first – ultimately successful – conviction. Sonny’s smile when he’d delivered the verdict to Rafael had been well-worth the effort of Rafael pretending he hadn’t seen it in his Google alerts earlier in the day. He’d kept his finger on the pulse of crime in the city for more years than he cared to count, but this verdict was uniquely important to him.

And maybe Sonny wasn’t just _anyone_.

 _It’s not like you bring him around me or anything_. If he’d done so, maybe that would’ve explained everything, made Andrew’s easy dismissal a little bit easier to swallow. Still, he tried to push the twinging feeling away from his nerves to enjoy the meal and the company at hand, despite the fact that he wished he could’ve settled the argument before Sonny settled the tab.

“Maybe,” Rafael echoed distantly, though he found himself agreeing less and less.

“Cheer up,” Andrew told him, as though that somehow solved everything. “You still have farm to table.”

For the first time in the last two months, Rafael felt himself inwardly roll his eyes.

-

The days of December were dwindling until a little more than two weeks remainder until the holiday party, and Sonny wished he’d never shown Rafael the invitation to begin with. It would have saved him months of agony over exactly what the best course of action might be. He’d already floated the idea to Bella, who looked aghast at depriving Tommy and the kids of a night of Rotel dip and board games for their own New Year’s Eve celebration. He hadn’t bothered to ask Angela, knowing it was one of the few girls-and-wine nights she’d allow herself in a single calendar year. And Gina, well – Gina always had a new coat to show off when it snowed – he knew better than to ask at all either.

Perhaps it was for the best not to bother to extend an invitation, even if it would entail a fancier open bar than usual.

Here, over hole in the wall Spanish seafood brunch, Sonny made eye contact with the helpless, dead face of the fried pompano laid out like a sacrifice in the center of the table. _I feel you, brother_ , he thought in sympathy as Dawn took a forkful of her first helping of bottomless ceviche. She’d at least had the decency to order a pitcher of similarly bottomless mimosas for the two of them, one which he planned to take full advantage of.

They’d exchanged enough pleasantries about work and family for him to take the plunge, and he braced himself.

“So I was thinking,” he said slowly, abandoning his own glass of champagne and orange juice that would’ve gone nicely with a celebration. Dawn smiled expectantly up at him, chewing her bite slowly and thoughtfully. “I got invited to this – this New Year’s Eve party at the DA’s office.” He could see her smile starting to wilt around the edges. “I – y’know, last minute kind of thing.” He picked up his full flute glass, tipping back a mouthful with what he hoped was a casual air. “I was thinking maybe I’d ask you to go with me?”

It felt like falling.

Dawn regarded him with that smile, one that had suddenly turned sad as she paused while they both marinated in what felt like a furtive confession.

“Sonny,” she began tentatively, blotting nicely at her mouth without smearing her matte dusk-pink lipstick in the least. “I don’t know how to say this.” He suddenly felt stripped to the bone in the way that the fried fish soon would, if either of them had anything to say about it. “It’s just – I’d love to.” Her hazel eyes met his. “ – but I’m seeing someone.”

Sonny had no words to match the way his heart seemed to fall dismally out of his chest, cast down somewhere on the floor.

He leaned away from the table slowly as though by reflex. _Stranger things_ , he thought with a downtrodden sense of bitterness.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” he rushed out. “Right.”

The embarrassment of the moment sharpened alongside the way Dawn regarded him with a look of abject sympathy – maybe it was more akin to pity.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, and he could tell she meant it. For a moment he had a fleeting recollection of the way she’d captured a spider in a drinking glass with a notecard underneath, depositing it charitably outside on the fire escape of their apartment when he’d flailed over it. What a station in life he’d been reduced to. “I just – y’know, I always hoped we could be friends again – even after everything that happened.”

And there it was – the final nail in the coffin, and it suddenly made sense why Dawn’s calendar had seemed insurmountably full as he tried to schedule the make up brunch to end all make up meals.

Sonny paused, watching the way that Dawn poked for meat atop the ribs of the fish with a knife and without regard for the cruelty of irony. His mind reeled a little, wondering why he’d allowed himself the space to miscalculate so horribly. All of a sudden, he missed his Xbox games.

He hadn’t spoken so much as a few pixels of text to Rafael in the weeks since their argument at Forlini’s, and he counted himself at least a little glad that he had avoided the misfortune of having to admit that he had been so, so right about Sonny’s shortcomings. The idea of an _I told you so_ suddenly felt like too much to bear.

Of course, he was probably the farthest thing from Rafael’s mind – probably long forgotten as he and Andrew laughed underneath the Christmas tree at cute dog videos on YouTube while they wore matching holiday pajamas and planned their first Christmas card for next year. _Rafael-and-Andrew, Andrew-and-Rafael_ , he imagined with disdain before he could stop himself. Maybe later he’d feel kinder, happier someone got what they wished for.

Rafael didn’t even _like_ cute dog videos. The notion of it felt heinous in its betrayal.

“Well, I hope he knows what he’s got,” Sonny sputtered out finally. Dawn winced.

“He works for a nonprofit,” she said quietly, as though that explained everything. “They work with free trade textiles. We – well, we have a lot to talk about.” The implication was clear. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Sonny dismissed, wiping a few fingertips across his napkin though there was no need to. “I’m happy for you.” He gave a smile that he knew looked more like a grimace. “ – fish is still good, huh?”

Dawn drummed her fingertips considerately against the laminate tabletop, one that overlaid advertisements for siding companies and the smiling face of an insurance agent.

“Do you ever think about getting back out there?” she asked, the right thing and the wrong thing all at once.

He thought about it for a moment, knowing that at first blush the answer was a resounding _not anymore_ that he didn’t dare speak into existence.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, feeling it as the truth. “I mean, _you_ did.”

“You deserve someone nice,” Dawn urged, patting his hand where it perched atop the knife next to the pitiful dead fish that still looked borderline delicious. Their eyes met. “Even if it isn’t me.” Now, she did dab at her lipstick where it had been mussed by her fork. “ _Especially_ if it isn’t me,” she added gently. She could always seem to read the mind of anyone in the room.

Sonny smiled, glad they were somewhere in public where he’d feel at least a little compelled to preserve his own dignity.

“Friends,” he said finally. “We could be friends.” The words sounded stupid to his ears, but he knew they’d be enough to console her from a guilt she would have confessed to him about someone else if they still existed in another life.

“Friends,” she confirmed finally. He felt like he’d been stabbed, too.

-

Unlike his friend Sonny, Rafael was not the type to wait by his phone for a text – at least, not on paper. Suddenly, he had found himself met with an unpleasant silence in texts from Andrew when he’d messaged about dress code for the holiday party. It was two days away, and he felt the itching beneath his skin already building to a fever pitch he couldn’t scratch.

He hadn’t gotten so much as an emoji from Andrew in two days. Faintly, it bothered him that Sonny had taught him what an emoji was called.

To add insult to injury, he could see each neatly printed, _Read: 7:12 AM_ below the last text he’d sent yesterday and not followed up on out of politeness and the urge not to bother. He had never been one to enjoy being chased and decided to respect Andrew’s space even though he could feel irritation simmering below his surface.

 _Sonny would be a wreck right now_ , Rafael thought with a sudden pang of empathy, having found himself down in that hole of worry that he’d chided Sonny for being halted by. It would probably have earned him a hearty, well-intentioned _I told you so_ – if the two of them were on speaking terms right now.

It was really a shame – it had been admittedly nice to have a friend.

Still, Rafael pushed on, choosing his finest dark suit and an appropriately festive crimson tie with a gilded paisley pattern. He even got a haircut the evening before the party, wanting to look appropriately impressive despite the fact that he’d formally left law practice itself to move along to what had turned out to be greener pastures.

He’d even had his barber Harold neaten up his beard for the occasion, though he typically did a good job of it himself. Rafael wondered if he should embrace or curse the fact that gray was beginning to creep into the hair on his face, even it had thus far missed his temples. He’d grown up alongside Harold, knowing him distantly from classes together and reuniting when Rafael found himself in search of the best haircut the city had to offer him years ago.

In a moment of weakness, he’d pulled out his phone as Harold was finishing up tidily buzzing at the hair at the back of his neck.

 _Hope you’re well. Can I expect you tomorrow?_ He flinched as soon as he sent the message to Andrew.

To his relief, he could see Andrew typing on the other end of the phone, somewhere out there in space. It seemed to stretch on for an agonizing eternity.

 _Sorry, things have been busy at work_ , the message began. _Things got hectic and I needed some space_.

“Space?” Rafael scoffed down at his phone. Harold gave him a sympathetic look, clearly having not been above sneaking a peek over his shoulder. “Just in time for the holidays to end,” he muttered.

Rafael had spent Christmas Day with Andrew, had woken up wrapped in his arms with Andrew’s cat sleeping sandwiched between their ankles. Rafael had been allergic to cats for his entire life, and quietly resented the innocuous, oblivious animal for making him wake up feeling itchy and congested, no matter how cute she was.

His family always celebrated on Christmas Eve, and he’d learned at a young edge to dread his father’s Christmas Day hangover and the fighting it would bring. He and Andrew hadn’t fought. Andrew had made him gluten free French toast that tasted like sawdust in his mouth. Still, he’d fawned over the late breakfast – the _sweet_ thing to do.

 _I think we need to slow down_ , Andrew added after a pause that had gone on too long. _Things have moved too fast_.

The neatly printed words stung, and Rafael knew that there might be a greater implication that he was being rejected entirely between the lines. He’d liked up front that Andrew always seemed to be direct, but that quality seemed to have somehow fallen to the wayside in the difficult waters of trying to ease out of the early stages of a _relationship_ , if you could even call whatever they had been doing such a thing.

“Jesus, that’s rough,” Harold piped up, brushing the snipped off hair off of Rafael’s shoulders and unsnapping the cape that had been fastened around his neck and shoulders. “Just in time for New Year’s, huh? Kind of an asshole move.”

Rafael supposed he ought to rush to defend Andrew’s honor, or at least to snap at Harold to mind his own damn business.

“Kind of,” he muttered in agreement instead. “ – but that’s my luck, isn’t it?”

“Gotta make your own luck, Rafi,” Harold told him, clapping him heavily on the shoulder.

“I don’t know what that means,” Rafael admitted after racking his brains to shake out some wisdom in the statement.

Harold shrugged, starting to sweep the cuttings of Rafael’s hair where they’d landed haphazardly on the floor. “I guess it sounded smart,” he said simply, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a small. “You’ll figure something out, man. You always have.”

The statement rang true – Rafael had learned at an early age that he had to land on his feet, and he would never have managed to come this far along in life if he hadn’t figured that out for himself.

He tipped Harold even more generously than usual for his trouble with struggling to come up with some good advice. Harold nodded at him, folding the bills neatly and tucking them into his apron pocket.

“Have a happy New Year,” Rafael said, knowing he likely wouldn’t himself.

-

Late in the afternoon on New Year’s Eve, Sonny had decided to pry himself away from his video games and an oversized bowl of cereal he supposed would have ruined his dinner if his stomach wasn’t a bottomless pit. His sisters had always glared at his fast metabolism, frowning as they fretted over their figures when he would never have to do the same. He’d grudgingly mailed back his RSVP, checking the _filet mignon_ option. It would be senseless to waste what was certain to be a steak he typically couldn’t afford.

As the sun faded, Sonny studied the contents of his closet, trying to find something that conveyed effort on his part rather than a last minute decision to show his face in good company. He scoured his closet, fishing out a dark charcoal three piece suit Carmen had told him once was just a little _too much_ for a Tuesday morning – perhaps a compliment. He chose to pair it with a maroon dress shirt and a forest green and white checked tie.

One night after he’d landed his new job, he and Bella had gone through his closet, tipsy on celebratory White Russians, and she’d told him every single combination of his collection of dress shirts and ties matched and did not. She’d laughed at his hopeless taste. She’d written them down to continue the joke, but he’d memorized the list and was thankful for it now. After Dawn had left, he’d needed all the help with clothes that he could get, and his sisters were never too selfish to keep their innate wisdom from their hapless brother.

It had been snowing lightly for most of the afternoon, but the flurries were beginning to get thicker, and to accumulate underfoot. Sonny set his rumpled hair into place with product and a comb, trying to make himself look presentable despite having the day off today and fittingly deciding to neglect his appearance in celebration. When he was dressed and presentable, he stepped outside and walked to the train station, hoping his shoes stayed respectably clean despite the snowy walk.

He supposed most of his colleagues would opt for a cab, but the fresh air in advance of the train ride would do him so good in clearing his head.

After his brunch with Dawn, he’d spent the last two weeks feeling defeated and embarrassed, kicking himself for being too oblivious to read the signs that things were finally really and truly _over_ between the two of them despite his romanticized daydreams to the contrary. Maybe he would stop smelling that _fucking_ shampoo everywhere.

Of course, the train was late, stranding him alone at the stop with his thoughts. Someone down the platform was dismally playing leftover Christmas songs on a discordant saxophone, making the day feel even more grating, and he wondered if he had made one final bad decision for a year of them. He sighed, fighting the urge to run his hand through the hair he’d just fixed. He felt like a kid playing dress up, and his tie felt uncomfortably tight.

When he arrived at the hall, Sonny had almost missed dinner, and Carmen had beamed at him nonetheless, patting the seat beside her and her wife Charlotte in a charitable act of having saved him a place to sit when he’d texted to ask her at the last minute practically begging. He dreaded the idea of being stranded without anyone to sit beside. He’d considered texting Rafael to let him know he’d decided to come despite his better instincts to avoid the festivities entirely but had decided against it when he distantly remembered the idea of how much their conversation had stung, especially in hindsight now.

Sonny had been right, though – the filet was delicious and melted like butter in his mouth. Carmen’s cheeks were growing pinker with each mouthful of wine, and suddenly he felt a little more at ease. Charlotte was a preschool teacher, and approachable enough to make the dinner feel like a night out with friends rather than the stuffiest gathering he’d ever tricked his way into being invited to.

Unfortunately, after dinner, there was dancing as the night grew impossibly darker and longer, and the two of them had left him to join the other couples. Sonny sat at the table alone, napkin long since balled and forgotten next to his empty plate. The music was soft jazz, and pleasant enough, though he’d _never_ be composed enough to pair it with a cigar. His table was entirely empty now, and when he could bear it no more, he rose to his feet to explore the bar. Soon he lost interest, climbing the stairs to the opulent mezzanine to survey the scene below while trying not to feel bad for himself.

The lighting was dim and atmospheric, and he was thankful it allowed for the illusion of a shroud of secrecy. There was more of an opportunity to go alone and less scrutinized than Rafael had given him the impression of, and – oh –

A familiar figure was already leaning over the railing, one he recognized even from behind, and he felt his pulse quicken. Still, tonight he was pushing himself outside of his comfort zone, _god damn it_ , and he strode over to where Rafael was resting on his elbows with a drink in his hand, conspicuously alone and unaccompanied.

“Hi,” he said uncertainly, feeling intimidated now that he’d actually taken the initiative to step outside of that damned forsaken comfort zone, and he fought the urge to want back into it.

Rafael regarded him with an arched eyebrow. “Well. I’m surprised to see you here.”

Sonny gave him a thin, admittedly nervous smile. “Wish I could say the same.” He leaned forward on his own forearms now. “Didn’t expect to see you hiding out like me, though.”

The music seemed farther away now, and he suddenly felt quietly thrilled by the prospect of having Rafael’s attention back on him.

“I don’t feel much like being sociable tonight, if it’s all the same to anyone,” Rafael admitted, somewhat gruff but not entirely unkind.

“I mean, it’s all the same to me, but that surprises me too, coming from you.” Sonny took a slow sip of his own drink. “I just figured this was your Super Bowl – you’ve been talking this party up to me for months – years, even before I got my first invitation. It’s your favorite night of the year and you’re all fussy.”

“I’m not _fussy_ ,” Rafael protested in a manner that was most certainly fussy.

Suddenly the gravity of Rafael hiding out in solitude struck him harder, hard enough to make him remark on it: “where’s Andrew?” he asked, though he was at least perceptive enough to maybe know the inklings of the answer.

Rafael turned his gaze to meet Sonny. “Andrew is at home. At his apartment. By himself, as in not here,” he said firmly, as though daring Sonny to make some type of comment.

“I’m sorry,” Sonny told him genuinely, not wanting this to be the case even though he had always known misery absolutely adored company. Rafael rolled his eyes slightly. “No, Rafael, really – I’m sorry.”

“How do you know he’s not sick or something?” Rafael asked drolly, eyes narrowed back down at the dancefloor. “Why do you make it sound like I got dumped?”

Sonny patted him on the shoulder with a resounding thud that somehow managed to be comforting. “ – because I remember how pissed off you get when someone cancels an obligation without what you determine is a good reason,” he said gently. He didn’t remove his hand from Rafael’s shoulder, instead gripping him and moving it back and forth enough to jostle him good naturedly. He supposed it was good enough as an apology, or at least the beginnings of one.

It was as though Rafael knew he’d been found out and had no grounds left not to argue on. He always knew when he’d been beaten, though it happened infrequently, of course.

“He said that we were moving too fast,” Rafael said dismissively, but Sonny could see that there was hurt there below the surface. “ – so hey, maybe Sonny Carisi is right once in a great, great while.”

“Dawn’s seeing someone,” Sonny blurted, feeling that right now for some reason it was desperately necessary that Rafael know the truth. “ – some guy in, like, imported textiles – I don’t know; I practically blacked out when she told me and missed all the details.” He hung his head, hoping no one from downstairs was watching the two of them dipping their toes into fully embracing drowning their sorrows. It felt pathetic, and the opposite of tidings of good cheer. “So, I guess you’re right once in a great, great while too.”

To his surprised, Rafael made no move to gloat, and in that case, Sonny knew the situation was decidedly dour indeed. Sonny sighed.

“ – and really, the truth of it is that I wanted to tell you as soon as she told me,” he added sheepishly. “I was just – I was mad at you still.” It sounded childish to his own ears, but Rafael looked at him now without pity.

“I’m sorry for that too,” Rafael said quietly, so quietly that he could barely be heard over the stylish notes being played by the band downstairs. He cleared his throat. “We shouldn’t have stopped talking. You could’ve warned me I was about to get ghosted.” Rafael paused, almost looking self-conscious. “I had to look up what that word meant when I thought he wasn’t going to text me anymore.”

Sonny offered the most genuine smile he thought he’d produced in weeks – maybe longer.

“Now you know why the dating game is so terrible,” he pointed out. “I know what you mean, though. Maybe neither of us are ready?” Sonny suggested.

The corners of Rafael’s mouth quirked up in a way that made Sonny glad he hadn’t had much to drink yet, lest his knees buckle. The small smile didn’t fade after a few seconds, and suddenly felt cripplingly self-conscious.

“What?” he asked quickly, hands rising as though he might be able to figure out if he had melted butter from his steak on his face or on his tie. Rafael shook his head, laughing now. “Why are you laughing?”

Rafael stuffed his smile away. “It’s silly. You’ll think it’s stupid.” Sonny felt a small beat of hope.

“Try me.” He found himself somehow in the mood to be tried.

His gaze didn’t drift away from Sonny this time – quite the opposite, really.

“I was just – you’ll laugh, but there are times where I think about what it would be like to kiss you.”

The entire ballroom suddenly felt lightyears away, and gone still, and Sonny’s lips parted a little in surprise. “What?”

“Forget I said anything,” Rafael said hastily, clearly embarrassed, and it was unusual to see him so ill-composed.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” Sonny told him cautiously. It occurred to him that he might be rashly throwing his cards down on the table to splay out, and his face flushed scarlet. He couldn’t say he’d never thought about it – had even confessed to Rafael that he’d made out with and hooked up with guys in college and the academy. It was a confession that seemed to be of endless fascination for Rafael, though he only remarked on it when they were both pliant from alcohol and in the mood to self-disclose a little more than was appropriate between colleagues. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind if you found out.”

It felt like falling in the way jumping over the ledge with Dawn had, and this time he couldn’t blame it all on the nostalgia of a past relationship.

Rafael regarded him with a curious look before he spoke again: “well, this is neither the time nor the place for it.” He paused, raising his eyebrows slightly before making a suggestion he appeared to have actually thought about before. “ – back to your place?”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Sonny exhaled, caught off guard. “Don’t you want to stay, at least until midnight? This is your favorite night of the year.” It would be a shame to deprive him even further than Andrew already had.

“Used to be,” Rafael told him honestly.

“Are you drunk?” Sonny sputtered, but Rafael’s gaze was decidedly sober.

“I hope you know me better than that,” Rafael said pointedly, abandoning his empty glass on the railing. “Did I speak out of turn?” There was a note of wishing in his voice.

“Maybe you just need someone to kiss at midnight,” Sonny countered, defensiveness keeping into his voice. “Maybe you’re desperate.”

“Maybe I want to kiss you, idiot,” Rafael argued, never one to escape from a debate over the years. Deep down, Sonny knew he had already lost. “Maybe I want to kiss someone who drinks Coors at a briefing. Maybe I want to kiss someone whose sisters pick out his ties for him.” He paused, considering his words carefully. “Maybe I’ve been thinking more and more about kissing someone who thinks jazz is pretentious.”

“It _is_ stupid,” Sonny deflected without ease. “I’m not going to be your backup plan, Rafael.”

Rafael caught him by the wrist as though anticipating that Sonny might try to turn away. His hands were warm in the way a person who spent a lot of time indoors would be.

“You aren’t.” The band had given up their dulcet notes and allowed the DJ to put on the Cupid Shuffle – another development Sonny filed away as another small surprise for the unfolding events of the night. “I would hope by now you would know that you aren’t.” As he said it, Sonny could swear that Rafael’s fingertips burned even hotter.

“We can take the train,” Sonny said foolishly, knowing Rafael wouldn’t want to stoop so low on New Year’s Eve.

“I’ll get a cab,” Rafael offered speedily, confirming his suspicions. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Sonny supposed he ought to say goodbye to Carmen and Charlotte, but he could see them gladly line dancing from his perch in the mezzanine and thought better of interrupting, allowing himself to be led to the door and out into the frigid streets.

The snow was beginning to pile more surely now, and Sonny knew it would probably be up to his ankles, ruining the nicest pair of shoes he owned. Yes, a cab would be most assuredly better. Maybe later he would tease Rafael for being older and wiser, but the urge went to the wayside as Rafael wound his gloved hand into Sonny’s bare one.

There had been dozens and dozens of little, passing moments in his day-to-day life he’d wanted to text Rafael about since the long silence began between the two of them, but most of them evaporated as soon as they settled into the cab together. It was quiet, and he watched the passing smatterings of Christmas lights that would finally be taken down tomorrow or the day after, savoring the way he finally felt comfortable enough to breathe again. Their hands lay linked together in the seat between them, and he puzzled inwardly over the image.

He most certainly had not expected this when he’d half-unwillingly pulled on his nicest suit but was glad for the development.

When they arrived at his apartment, Sonny suddenly flinched in worry at the prospect of inviting Rafael in. Rafael had certainly seen his apartment before – had helped him measure the space for a couch that fit perfectly, of course, and had come over to watch the end of a Mets game that had surprisingly captured his interest when it threatened to go into extra innings as a no-hitter when they’d watched at Forlini’s. _You can’t talk about it or it won’t come true_ , Sonny had insisted, shushing him every time Rafael had tried to speak about it. Perhaps it was fitting.

And before he knew it, there they were, with Sonny shifting anxiously from foot to foot in the confines of his living room.

Rafael’s eyes fell on the abandoned Xbox controller.

“I’ve had a lot of free time,” Sonny explained helplessly. Rafael didn’t remark on it, motioning for Sonny to approach him, and he did so, feeling slightly lightheaded.

It was even quieter here than it had been at the now-forgotten party – staggeringly so, and Sonny thought for a moment that he could hear the rushing of blood in his ears as Rafael invaded his space welcomely.

 _Sue me_ , Sonny thought carelessly when he reminded himself he’d thought about how Rafael’s mouth might feel against his own. Their lips met, slow and assured and just the pace he’d thought Rafael would set for the two of them if they were to ever find themselves here, in _this_ time and space. _Finally_. He fisted his hands in the snow-soaked cashmere scarf Rafael hadn’t taken off yet, pulling him closer.

It would be dumb to insist he hadn’t thought about this before but hadn’t had the courage to initiate or even acknowledge, and he sighed with gladness against Rafael’s lips. Rafael undid the buttons of his coat with finesse, chasing Sonny’s fingers away from where they were tangling in his scarf. They dumped their coats on the sofa in an undignified heap, too lost in the idea of pressing their bodies against one another.

“You looked so good tonight,” Rafael murmured against his mouth. “It would’ve been selfish of you to show up looking like that with someone else with you.”

“That’s not what you said,” Sonny huffed, fumbling with the well-manicured knot in Rafael’s tie. “You always say what you don’t mean,” he complained.

Rafael pulled away, regarding him with an insistent stare. “Not always,” he continued, tugging Sonny back in by the collar of his dress shirt. “Believe me?” he suggested. Sonny nodded mutely, allowing himself to be kissed again with a dizzying, building intensity. He knew Rafael could never stand to be argued with enough to leave it alone and prove himself right. “I want you,” he breathed, breaking away for a moment. “Believe me.”

Being told to _believe_ Rafael didn’t feel as much like falling as he’d expected, and Sonny pressed a series of soft, desperate kisses against his mouth.

“I waited for this,” Sonny rasped, tugging at his own tie to throw it aside with no mind to the notion that it might ruin one of the finer things he owned. “It sounds dumb, I know, but I always hoped - ”

“Yeah,” Rafael told him, gone uncharacteristically ineloquent. “Me too.”

They parted to strip their shirts off, and Sonny found himself a little embarrassed to be laid bare. The embarrassment thankfully began to fade as Rafael’s eyes raked over his torso, and he leaned down to shamelessly close his mouth around Rafael’s nipple. He savored the long, low moan it drew from him, and he fleetingly wondered why he’d waited so long. His tongue flickered against the hard point of it, nipping gently as he parted to kiss Rafael’s flushed lips again.

“You’re a tease,” Rafael panted. Sonny let his fingers hook into Rafael’s belt as if to prove the opposite, toying with the buckle before undoing it with a deftness that surprised both of them. “Jesus Christ.” Sonny pushed his pants and underwear down just low enough to curl a sure hand around Rafael’s cock. “Jesus _Christ_ , Sonny.”

“I’m not all bad,” Sonny huffed, pumping slowly from the root to tip of him as if to prove a point or two. “I swear.”

“Shut up,” Rafael told him, though there was no bite to it, only the shockingly needy breath of someone who had yearned for him for a long, unspoken time. Sonny lowered himself to his knees, kissing his way down the expanse of Rafael’s torso as he went. Rafael carded his way through the grayed strands of Sonny’s hair, mussing the product in it until it was beyond composure. He hoped Rafael liked him better this way, disheveled and on his knees before him. “ _God_ ,” he hissed as Sonny closed his lips around the tip of him.

Sonny relished in the noise, a praise that wasn’t explicit in its verbiage but rather in its tone. He hummed appreciatively around the mouthful, laying a hand on Rafael’s thigh to steady himself. He hollowed his cheeks, taking Rafael deeper and deeper still, finding himself less rusty than he’d worried he’d be if he ever found himself.

Rafael’s hips hitched, clearly fighting not to choke him.

“You’re good at this,” he whispered, trying not to pull at Sonny’s hair. Sonny admired his restraint, glad the roles weren’t reversed. “ – so fucking good.”

With the encouragement, Sonny found himself emboldened, and allowed himself to grasp at the meat of Rafael’s ass to pull him deeper. He suddenly couldn’t get enough of the sounds Rafael made above him, and rubbed his tongue enthusiastically against the underside of Rafael’s cock.

He could have gone on this way all night and died happily, suddenly without mind to the party they’d left behind, and he allowed himself to enjoy the wet noises of Rafael in his mouth without mind to what might come next.

After several long minutes, Rafael nudged him away with a hand to his bare shoulder.

“Not good?” Sonny asked with an unexpected coyness, knowing the opposite was true.

“Don’t make me come before you fuck me,” Rafael breathed plainly, bracing himself with one hand at the arm of the couch. He paused. “Too much?”

“Not at all,” Sonny confirmed, pulling Rafael back into him with the slack waistband of his pants as he rose back to his feet. He sealed their mouths together, sweeping in with his tongue as he clutched at Rafael’s bare ass. “ – you sure you want to do this?” Rafael nodded, his freshly trimmed hair brushing against Sonny’s jaw as he fastened his teeth lightly into the curve of his jaw. “Bed?”

Rafael didn’t need to answer, settling instead for kissing him breathless as he dragged him into the general direction of his bedroom with Sonny steering him carefully to soften out the rough edges of his navigation. When they arrived, he pushed Rafael lightly into the center of the bed as he stripped out of the rest of his pesky clothing while Rafael did the same. Their shoes landed in a clatter.

Descending on the bed, Sonny wrapped his hand back around Rafael’s cock, still slick with his spit, swallowing the sound he made as he arched his hips upward into the long-wanted touch.

“I missed you,” Sonny admitted, kissing him hard before Rafael could get a word in edgewise, especially if it was intended to taunt him. “ – want to fuck you so bad.”

“Do it,” Rafael coaxed, leaning back on his elbows to watch the sight of Sonny’s hand pumping him too-slowly. “Fuck – want you to do it.” The taunting for his sentimentality didn’t come, much to his pleasure. Sonny climbed on top of him, pleased with himself that for once he could arrange his gangly limbs with some type of skill. He rubbed their bodies together, watching the way Rafael’s already-leaking cock rubbed against his own between their bodies.

“I want to open you up to take my cock,” Sonny said quickly, unable to hold back now. “ – get you nice and wet and open so I can get inside you.” He leaned slightly away to root around in the bedside drawer for a condom and some lube before letting drop next to their bodies.

Rafael groaned contentedly against his mouth, clearly ready and more than willing to take the next step. “Why do you have that?” he asked, nodding at the bottle of lube that was half empty.

Sheepishly, Sonny blushed. “There are times where I like to - ” He hesitated. “I got curious and fingered myself and after that I still – listen, it’s been a long time just being by myself,” he said, giving a shy, humorless life. Rafael kissed him, slow heat gathering even more between them with each passing moment. He steadied Sonny by his hips, grinding their cocks together, clearly enjoying the friction and the slickness.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Rafael murmured against his mouth. “Show me sometime?”

The blush on Sonny’s cheeks deepened even more. “Maybe if you’re lucky.”

Any smart remark died on Rafael’s tongue as Sonny arranged their limbs so Sonny could settle between his thighs.

“I want to make you feel so good,” Sonny told him, knowing he was dangerously close to being too earnest and split wide open. He dribbled lube all over two fingers, gone clumsy in his excitement. Rafael made an appreciative noise, angling his hips up to present himself. Sonny swallowed at the sight, painfully hard himself without being touched. It was probably for the best, he noted, knowing he’d be dangerously close as soon as he got inside. “That’s good.”

He traced the furled rim of Rafael’s hole with one wet finger, enjoying the way Rafael squirmed below him with a deep breath. Rafael nodded encouragingly, spreading his legs wider, more flagrantly in need of _more_. Sonny slowly pressed the first finger inside, breath catching in his throat at the way that Rafael tipped his head back.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Sonny said, voice almost hoarse at the overpowering heat of Rafael’s body. “Oh my god.” He leaned up again, crashing his mouth against Rafael’s and pushing his finger deeper at the same time. Rafael practically _keened_ , the delighted sound coming from deep in his chest against Sonny’s lips and tongue. And _yes_ , by now he knew he’d be offering the most transparent lie ever told if he’d try now to deny that he wanted this, and had for so long without realizing it.

“Give me another one, please,” Rafael asked. It was a marvel that he still sounded composed, polite even as his thighs trembled. Sonny slid another finger in the furnace-hot, tight space inside of him. He worked his fingers in and out, sliding them back in deeper and crooking his fingers. Rafael gave a muffled shout against his lips, cock twitching, and he was clearly fighting with himself not to stroke it himself. Sonny smiled, proud of himself, trailing his fingers over the bundle of nerves so deep in Rafael’s body.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Sonny’s voice was raspy, breaking away from Rafael’s lips to suck a dusk-colored bruise at the space where Rafael’s neck and shoulder met in a curve. He supposed he earned points for being thoughtful enough to only leave a mark where it could be hidden. Rafael writhed, trying to push back with his hips for more of the sensation. “It looks like it feels good.”

Rafael huffed for air, trying to still himself. “No wonder you figured out you like to do this to yourself,” he panted. “You’re good at it.”

“I’d rather do it to you,” Sonny told him honestly. He slowly toyed with Rafael’s cock, dragging a firm hand down the length of him. “ – wish you could see the way you look right now. Jesus, I wish we hadn’t waited this long.”

“If you – oh, _fuck_ ,” Rafael groaned as Sonny’s fingers made an insistent, sweeping rub inside of him. Sonny savored the delicious shiver that ran through his body. “ – if you keep waiting you’re going to make me come before you even get inside me.” The words were filthy in both content and the ragged tone of Rafael’s voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sonny agreed. He withdrew his fingers, marveling at the way Rafael practically _whined_ at the loss, even if it had been his idea to hurry things along in the first place. “How do you want it?” A small part of him hoped he could have Rafael on his back, to watch his face as Sonny first pushed inside.

“Like this,” Rafael confirmed, hitching his legs up slightly. Sonny took in a grateful breath, hands shaking as he tried to open the condom. “Give me that,” Rafael insisted, plucking the condom out of his hands and easily tearing it open. Sonny rolled it on in a haste, but Rafael batted his hands away to slick his cock himself. Sonny made a helpless sound at the relief of _finally_ being touched, and Rafael nipped gently at his pectoral muscle. It felt _good_ , and Sonny knew it would only get better.

“Ready?” Sonny asked, feeling himself tremble in a way he’d be embarrassed of if Rafael wasn’t staring up at him, clearly pleased and anticipating. He positioned himself carefully, as though fleetingly afraid of hurting Rafael by moving too fast. Rafael laughed, desperate and impatient, and crooked an ankle around Sonny’s back to bring him in closer and faster. “Jesus.”

Rafael looked up at him, eyes heavy lidded with lust. “Fuck me, Sonny. I want your cock so bad.” Sonny felt his brain short circuit, the head of his cock poised at Rafael’s entrance, and he slowly pressed inside. They both let out a pleasured, caught breath at the motion until Sonny was fully seated and almost impossibly deep.

“Fuck, _fuck_ , you’re tight,” Sonny gritted out. “Even more than I thought you’d be.” It was torture to try and keep himself still, to keep from bucking up into the staggering, intoxicating feeling of Rafael’s body. Still, he paused in an effort to be considerate enough to let Rafael adjust. Rafael tilted his head back, eyes squeezing shut with a shaky, pleased moan.

“You can move,” Rafael said. It would normally sound like a nagging command to both of them, but his breath seemed to be faltering in a good way that made Sonny feel powerful, like he’d won something very important.” Sonny cooperated, giving a deep, strong thrust. Rafael’s mouth dropped open, and he let out a guttural sound. “Yeah, yeah – like that.”

Sonny shivered at the huskiness of Rafael’s voice, coaxing one hand up to tangle their fingers together near Rafael’s face as they kissed. Time moved slowly, and he felt lost in the astounding feel of Rafael around him. Rafael’s tongue swept into Sonny’s mouth, and he nipped gently at Sonny’s lower lip. Sonny’s hips jerked with the pleasure of it, and it tore a ragged, quietly glad cry out of Rafael.

“Like that,” he panted. “ _Harder_ , please.” Sonny had never heard Rafael say _please_ with this kind of desperation, and he found he couldn’t get enough of it. A small, competitive part of him wanted to see if it was possible to make him beg, but now was most certainly not the time, not with the way that Rafael was pushing back to meet his thrusts.

“You feel so good,” Sonny said against his throat. “Let me make you feel good.” He reached between their bodies, tracing the pad of his thumb through Rafael’s impossibly wet tip. Rafael bobbed his head, for once at a loss for words that Sonny never thought he’d live to see. He’d been so stupid to wait for this, had been so stupid to not make a move or even consider that maybe there was more to a friendship that had felt so natural.

They kissed again, and Sonny would be content to never stop kissing Rafael for as long as he’d allow it. He knew he was moaning against Rafael’s lips, though he also knew Rafael could never judge his desperation because he knew he was meeting it himself. The friction was perfect, and he could feel the head of his cock dragging bluntly over Rafael’s prostate for long minutes, verified in the way that Rafael broke away to make a rasping, choked sound that Sonny assumed he would’ve typically deemed undignified.

“Make me come,” he rasped, as though asking for permission.

Sonny nodded to himself, laying the fingers of his free hand on the underside of Rafael’s chin to slam their mouths together, never wanting to stop tasting him, never wanting to stop feeling the hot clutch of his body around him.

“Yeah,” Sonny breathed. “Come all over yourself for me, baby. Show me how good it feels.” He knew his body was shaking now alongside his voice. “Show me how nobody could fuck you as good as I can tonight.” It felt filthy and embarrassing to say it out loud, but the insecure parts of him wanted to hear it spoken into existence.

“Just you,” Rafael panted throatily in agreement. “You fuck me so good.”

The praise felt hot in his veins, made him pump his hips faster and perfectly in time with the rhythm of his hand on Rafael’s cock until Rafael let a ragged curse tear out of him in Spanish as he came. His come splashed all over Sonny’s fist and their hips and bellies. Rafael made a wordless sound of encouragement, pulling Sonny harder against him, in and out until Sonny stiffened all over, groaning delightedly as it was his turn to come.

After a few seconds of trying to compose himself, Sonny flopped onto his back beside Rafael, not bothering to let go of his hand just yet as he panted for breath. Rafael laid a hand in the center of his own chest, his heartbeat more than likely hammering below his palm.

“Was, um,” Sonny began uncertainly. “Was that all right?”

Rafael’s eyes were closed as he composed himself, and Sonny feared for a moment he’d be rejected one more time this year, coming in just underneath the wire for another blow of disappointment he supposed he should have anticipated.

“And then some,” Rafael said, turning over slightly on one side, laying a tired hand at Sonny’s waist. He kissed him again, chaste and fleeting this time.

“I don’t ever want to fight again,” Sonny admitted, feeling bare and exposed and _honest_ in ways he hadn’t since he’d begged not to be left behind in his last relationship, but somehow this felt better, easier, _safer_. “ – even if this is the way you apologize for being an asshole.”

Despite the afterglow, Rafael rolled his eyes. “It was a _mutual_ apology,” he sniffed with disdain for the idea that he’d be weak enough to be the only one who said he was sorry.

“Sure it was,” Sonny muttered dismissively, though he brushed his lips over the back of Rafael’s clean hand. “Apology accepted,” he added, knowing it would irritate Rafael just enough to satisfy himself. Rafael huffed but didn’t argue.

“Mind if I stay?” Rafael asked after several long beats of contented silence.

Sonny paused, not having expected this part of the evening even more so than what had also somehow transpired. “I’d be upset if you didn’t,” he admitted quietly.

“Good,” Rafael said honestly, brushing their lips together again.

Outside in the street, car horns were blaring and fireworks had begun to streak across the sky with the stroke of midnight, exploding overhead and shaking the panes of Sonny’s windows. He laid his chin in the curve of Rafael’s shoulder, holding him closer.

“I can’t believe you found a way to salvage this stupid holiday,” Rafael mused, wrapping his arms bonelessly around Sonny’s waist.

“It’ll be your favorite one again next year,” Sonny pointed out. “Just had to get a bad one out of your system.”

Rafael didn’t have an argument. _Stranger things_ , Sonny thought as he faded off into a doze.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Obviously I got a little carried away with Lady_sb’s excellent prompt, _Rafael and Sonny have dates with different people on the same specific night, although they clearly have something for each other. Dates go badly and they find themselves drowning sorrows that leads to some really nice smutty times._ It ended up being a little mushier and with a lot more feelings that I had initially intended, but I hope it is still to your liking because I had a blast writing it, and I adore your writing as well!
> 
> The title from this story is from Ella Fitzgerald’s, “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve.” I drew a bit of inspiration from my favorite underrated-for-the-holiday-season classic _When Harry Met Sally_ , because “friends to lovers” is a trope I never get tired of. This year has been total trash in more ways than I or anyone I know can comprehensively list, so writing something (hopefully) cute with a happy ending was a godsend to me this holiday season. 
> 
> I hope everyone had as great of a holiday as can be expected from 2020, and I hope even more ardently that 2021 is the best year that it can possibly be – we’ve all earned it!
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading. If you are so inclined, I can be found on Twitter at @LBSubmarine. Happy New Year!


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